Taken Down By Love
by beautifulmornings
Summary: Sometimes to stop the ache of a broken heart, you use someone - anyone. Sometimes they break your heart all over again. Propbably paranoid ratingswise, but better safe than sorry :


**Disclaimer:** Characters etc belong to JK Rowling.

**Taken Down By Love**

**Draco Malfoy was in love with Pansy Parkinson.**

Pansy Parkinson was not interested in Draco Malfoy; in fact, she was far more interested in Blaise Zabini. It made Draco Malfoy's insides boil to see her fawning over him, and him lap up the attention, shooting him smug glances. They were sat in the Great Hall, and he refused to look up from his plate. Focusing on his food, he roughly hacked at it, shovelling it into his mouth, before rising fluidly and stalking from the Great Hall just in time to miss that filth kiss the girl he loved. His skin crawled, and he felt sick. Throwing open the door to the nearest bathroom, he ordered everyone out. They fled promptly, leaving him alone and breathing heavily. He was violently sick. With a shaking hand he wiped his mouth, staggered to his feet, and splashed his face with water. Pansy knew. She knew that he loved her. He had told her a week ago. That same night she let him witness Blaise and her fucking, let him hear it. The sounds still haunted him now. He wanted to peel off this skin, be someone else, get away from her, from the way she made him suffer. Draco Malfoy would not be taken down by "love", he was better than that.

* * *

**Hermione Granger was in love with Ron Weasley.**

Ron Weasley was utterly oblivious to everything. In fact, one night when she had gone down to the common room, full of hope for what she thought was a burgeoning relationship, she had frozen on the stairs, hearing his voice. He was stuttering, obviously embarrassed, and she felt her heart warm, but then she heard what he was saying. He was telling whoever else was there that Hermione was like a sister. Honest. And that he would never do anything, it would be weird. He was obviously with another girl she concluded. Stifling a sob with her hand, she fled back up to her room to bury herself in bed. She never heard what came after that.

The other person had been Harry. Just a scant minute later, Ron had cracked, admitting to Harry that he loved Hermione, that he always would. Harry had clapped him on the back, and told him he knew, that he had to say something. Ron had simply sighed. If Hermione had not left, thinking him with some other girl, maybe what followed next would never have happened.

* * *

Both Hermione and Draco avoided eating meals in the dining hall, preferring the kitchens, avoiding the object of their affections. Often they would see each other there, and after a while, they tentatively began to talk, but nothing really happened until Hermione came to the kitchens one night to find Draco Malfoy rip roaring drunk huddled under a blanket by the fire. Sighing, she had gone to sit next to him, asked what was wrong. He had confessed, in his drunken state how much he loved Pansy, how she was breaking his heart, pushing the knife deeper on purpose. Her heart broke for him. Eventually she told him of Ron, and though he had laughed derisively that she wanted "that Weasel" he listened attentively. He offered her a drink, and hesitantly she took it. The drink burned a path down her throat, burning away any trace of Ron's name. She had another glass. And another. And another. Suddenly there were four empty bottles strewn around the hearth, and she could no longer tell if the sweet taste was on his breath as he leaned in to whisper something to her, or on her own. She leant back laughing, finding him staring at her as she calmed again. Asking what it was, he concisely, and bluntly, asked why she had bothered with Weasley, that she could do so much better, that she was so beautiful and smart. Tears spilt onto her cheeks as she smiled.

"Oh Draco"

Still mesmerised he leant in, his eyes now locked on her lips.

"Kiss me"

She obliged. It was tentative, and as sweet as the alcohol she had so much of. It was not long before neither was fully aware of what was happening, and neither was in a state to stop. Fervently he kissed her, tasting her, his mouth never leaving her body even as it slid from her mouth. Hermione was making tiny gasps, the haze in her mind obscuring any sense of right and wrong. She no longer cared. When she was doing this, there was no Ron, and for him, there was no Pansy, just the warm body in front of them. Then they were fucking. Right there on the cold kitchen floor while the school slept. It was not gentle or loving, it was hateful and fiery. The heat was searing, and neither bothered to think past the moment. Then it was over. The next morning, Malfoy woke alone.

* * *

Over the next few months they developed a system, when they were hurting or life got hard, they found each other. In the kitchen, in classrooms, cupboards and empty hallways. Fiercely doing anything they could to stop the ache, to force the pain out. They owled each other messages at night to meet in designated locations. Soon it was not just on occasion but once a week. They needed each other. Sometimes Draco would wake up and she would be there, sometimes Hermione had fled as he slept. They both loved another; there was no point in lying. In fact, they barely tolerated each other, the only time they could be civil was when they had their fill, or whilst they slept. If one of them got a chance, neither would hesitate to terminate this half relationship.

Then one night, Draco Malfoy's dreams came true. Pansy came to him, came asking him to come to bed with her, be with her. Readily and eagerly he accepted, letting her pull him upstairs, even as something strange settled in his throat as he realised he had no need of Hermione anymore. They went at each other hungrily, but he could not help but think that Hermione had a shade more passion, that her hair felt nicer in his hands, that he liked the noises that Hermione made more. He forced himself to concentrate on the girl he had loved for so long, but his mind kept slipping, and he gave in, thinking unashamedly of Hermione. It was over very quickly after that. It was worth it when he came. She felt so good, god he missed this, missed her. He loved her, loved what she did to him, loved everything about her.

"Hermione", he breathed.

The girl stiffened, affronted, and he cracked an eye open. This was not Hermione, this was Pansy. The girl he had called out for was not Pansy, the girl he had professed his love for was not Pansy, the girl he wanted was Hermione. Somewhere between that first drunken fumble and shagging Pansy, Draco Malfoy had fallen for Hermione. Fallen for her temper, her utter disdain for his bad attitude, the way she did not care what he thought of how she looked. He pushed Pansy away roughly, sickened. She had enough pride to dress and slip from the room discreetly, already erasing it from her memory. Both knew that any chance of a relationship died when he said Hermione's name. Head in hands he groaned, before hurriedly owling the girl on his mind. Tonight, he would see her, tonight they could be together.

Soon Hermione arrived at their meeting place, bubbling with excitement at her news. When he arrived he looked flustered and embarrassed. Before he could say a word she had begun to chatter aimlessly. Odd. She looked so radiant and happy, he thought, tuning out every word she said. Suddenly he stiffened; catching something disturbing in her words, listening more closely he heard what he had always dreaded.

Ron had asked her out. Got up the balls one night and asked. She had, obviously, said yes. Unlike him though, her love had not wavered. That's why she had come, to tell him. His eyes went dull and flat and Hermione faltered. They had both known it was not forever, hadn't they? She swallowed nervously, eyes trained on him. Quick as lightening he reached out, grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the classroom to their right. She stood frozen in shock at his unexpected actions. Then his mouth was on hers, his hands pulling at her clothes, and she let him. Though she did not resist him, she did not respond, and he swiftly moved from her unmoving lips to assault her neck, unbuttoning her shirt and pulling off his as he did so. She felt so good. Hermione cracked and responded with equal fervour. Her next words broke his heart, even as her hands unbuckled his belt.

You were always far better than Ron.

Lust clouded her vision, and soon they were back the way they had been for those lonely months. Draco could almost pretend she was his. Oh god he loved her. She was perfect, beautiful, amazing. They finished together, both crying out.

A whispered, "I love you".

A moaned, "Ron".

Both froze. His heart shattering, her eyes brimming with fear. He loved her, she loved Ron. She went to apologise, her mouth opening. Smoothly he cut her off, looking her in the eye, cool as ever.

"It doesn't matter. We knew the deal."

Sighing in relief, she pressed her forehead to his, brushing his lips against hers, conjuring a bed and blankets. They fell asleep together, savouring what should have been their last night. And, as per usual, when Draco awoke, he was alone, and her side of the bed was cold. He never even got the chance to say goodbye.

* * *

Hermione took to avoiding Malfoy, trying to escape the fire in her stomach every time she saw him, to ignore the plea in his eyes when he looked at her. He was addictive, and while she loved Ron. Draco Malfoy simply made her feel so much better. She did not love him, but she did love what he could do to her. He would do anything for her, no matter how wrong, and she was too selfish to resist. That was how weeks later they once again found themselves back in the classrooms, back in closets and hiding from the midnight patrols. It was exhilarating, and it only made him love her more. But still she did not love him. Draco doubted she ever would, but while she still wanted him in some way, he would still stick around. Their clandestine meetings carried on, right up until she had got engaged three years later, and even part way into the engagement, and still every time, she would call out Ron's name, refusing to look him in the eye as he whispered I love you's.

Then one night she came to him and he knew. Knew that she was ending it, that he would probably never see her again. That this night would be the last time she would acknowledge what had been. Ushering her in, he watched her fidget on his sofa, wanting to hold her and calm her. He remained standing, forcing an impassive mask. She looked down at her twisted hands. Then, smoothing her skirt she took a deep breath and uttered the immortal words.

"We have to stop."

"Why?"

She flushed, shying away from his razor sharp features the anger and hurt she could see simmering under his skin and in his eyes. As she remained silently, he bent down in front of her, grabbing her chin and gently forcing her to look at him. She broke the stare quickly, pulling her head away and looking to the side. Her eyes were brimming with tears, one marking a trail down her porcelain cheek. Closing her eyes, she told him. Though barely audible, her words made his heart hurt even more.

She was stopping this because when she was with Ron she thought of him, because last time they had had sex she had called out his name, not Ron's.

He did not know if it would have been worse to break it off knowing she never cared, or if it hurt more knowing she cared, but not enough to be with him. Sadly, he took her hands, pulling her to her feet. Looking deep into Hermione's eyes, he asked for one last goodbye. Nodding her assent, he led her gently to the bedroom. This time it was her who whispered I love you as she slipped from the bed, softly closing the door behind her. Draco's heart would shatter again and again as he replayed how her voice cracked halfway through, and the stifled sob he had heard as she left.

The next day the headlines proclaimed, "The New Mrs. Weasley".

Bowing his head, Draco Malfoy said his final goodbyes to the girl he would always love, and everything they had shared.

**Draco Malfoy had finally been taken down by love**.


End file.
